


Lips Like Liquorice, Tongue Like Candy

by painted_pain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_pain/pseuds/painted_pain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is at this new school not even a month, tired of moving around so much, sick of this life, when he has his first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips Like Liquorice, Tongue Like Candy

Sam is at this new school not even a month, tired of moving around so much, sick of this life, when he has his first kiss. His first kiss and he is surrounded by concrete and the smell of stale smoke, on a Wednesday when he told Dean he'd be somewhere else, that secret giving everything an electric thrill. It is pretty much the best day of his entire not so long life, sparks of pleasure thrumming through his veins and jolting from head to toe, the soft press of lips to lips, the shy flick of a tongue.    
  
Lucy is in his Math class. She’s smart and sweet with curly brown hair and bright green eyes -- not as bright or as green as Dean’s eyes, though -- with delicate eyebrows and a pretty pink mouth. She sits beside Sam and she smells of vanilla, the scent surrounding him until he feels dizzy and light-headed with it. They exchange small little jokes, Lucy’s laugh tinkering lightly in the half-silence of the classroom, and notes on paper folded too many times, fingers brushing with each pass of the paper, cheeks flushing red and hot. Sam feels like he’s going to burst from his skin, so shy and unsure, but he feels each glowing smile from Lucy like a brush of lips against his skin and his stomach swoops madly.   
  
In the cafeteria during lunch, Sam sits with Lucy’s friends, always pressed up against her side, heat bleeding through the too thin material of his worn t-shirts and he feels like he’s flying. He smiles and jokes and talks but it’s Lucy who laughs the loudest, who grins the widest, who listens the most intently. Sam isn’t quite sure what to do with that. It’s oddly thrilling, having someone who wants to listen to him whine about schoolwork and teachers, talk about how much he loves the new book they’re reading in English; he loves, in these special moments when it’s just him and Lucy, sitting hunkered down behind a concrete wall outside, how he can talk about how much he hates his father, how much he wants to leave and she just listens, with wide, soft eyes. And when she holds his hand and lays her head on his shoulder, Sam doesn’t feel so wound up, tight and angry, like he wants to punch someone until they bleed.    
  
When Lucy kisses his cheek for the first time, he walks home in a daze and trips over a duffel bag, falling onto his face and giving himself a nosebleed, as soon as he enters the house Dad’s found for them this time. Dean laughs at him until tears stream down his cheeks but Sam is floating too high to care.   
  
They’re sitting in  _their_  spot, Lucy holding his hand, head on his shoulder, when Sam leans down and kisses her softly, gently, chaste press of his lips on hers. He pulls back too quickly and she smiles at him, bright and happy -- not as bright as Dean’s, though -- reaching up to place her free hand on Sam’s right cheek, thumb rubbing lightly under his eye. It’s a caress and Sam dips back down to capture her lips in another kiss. He has no idea what he is doing, heart hammering in his chest until it’s fit to explode, but Lucy just kisses him back, slow glide of her lips against his, soft and yielding. He brings his empty right hand to slot against her hip and Lucy makes a slight gasp of surprise that levels out into a hum of approval.   
  
Sam wants to lick that sound out of her mouth and swallow it so he can carry it around with him forever and never forget it. He shyly parts his lips and brushes his tongue along her lower lip. Sam wants to taste Lucy’s pretty pink mouth that reminds him of cotton candy. She opens her mouth then on a gasp and their tongues meet slowly, sweetly, and something burns up in Sam’s chest as they glide against each other, making a delicious heat spread through him. Lucy’s hand slides down to cup the back of his head, tugging lightly at the strands of hair and Sam doesn’t ever want to stop.   
  
They stay there until the cold of the concrete seeps into their bones and when they break away, Lucy’s eyes are glazed over, skin flushed and lips dark pink and puffy. Sam knows he doesn’t look much better and his heart skips a beat. They’re still holding hands.   
  
As they clamber up, grinning manically at each other, Sam thinks about how he can’t wait to tell Dean. If there’s a slight skip to his step on the way home from school, well, no one really has to know.


End file.
